Missing You
by jo taylor
Summary: A sad little addendum to Archaeologist's Holiday


AN; I had no intention of writing a sequel to Archaeologist's Holiday, but I got a review today which begged for something more, this is what I came up with. Not what I think the reader wanted but what came out of my head!!  
  
Feedback would be adored.  
  
Missing You  
  
Daniel looked out at the vastness of space all around him. He had the whole universe to play in now; every planet, every secret lay open for his perusal, and still he found himself here. Below him the blue and white swirls of Earth twisted in their own unique patterns. He told himself he wasn't homesick, told himself that this was what he wanted, what he had needed - but it was not enough.  
  
Oma had warned him to let go of his past, to allow all that he could be to flourish unhindered. He had power now, though it did him little good. What use was it to him if he was not allowed to use it to help those in need? On an intellectual level he knew all the answers. It was not his place to play God with someone else's life. Every action has a reaction and he could not predict the outcome of his interference. It hadn't stopped him though when Jack had needed his help so badly. He would never let anyone see how much that had cost him; never let his face mirror the almost overwhelming sense of betrayal he had felt at not being able to step in personally. He'd had to be creative in his interference, relying on the tenuous link he still held with his former team-mates.  
  
If he could have sighed he would have. That was something else he missed, his physicality. He couldn't say in all honesty that he missed the allergic reactions, having a cold, the inevitable pain that came with getting hurt on a mission, but he did miss the taste of coffee, the casual friendly touch of his team. And he missed Vicky.  
  
Their liaison had been brief, cut too short by that fateful trip; they had had just a few glorious days and nights in Belize. He didn't have to delve too deeply to bring forth the image of her golden body against the white of the hotel sheets, nor to relive the sensation of her mouth on his skin. The remembered whisper of her breath against his cheek still sent a tingle of desire through him. He missed her passion for her work, her courage and her intellect. He missed everything that she was.  
  
Unmoved by his musings, Earth rotated slowly beneath him. He had taken to dropping by the SGC when his longing for home became too urgent. Just drifting down the corridors watching his friends interact brought him a little relief, though it was tinged with a pain he could not admit to. So far he had avoided trying to find Vicky. She had not taken up her post at Cheyenne Mountain and he could understand why. Going there would have been a nightmare; working with Jack and the team a constant reminder that Daniel was no longer there. He knew how he would have felt if their circumstances were reversed. Hadn't he gone through the same thing with Sha're? Each return to Abydos and his extended family had been like a knife twisting in his heart. But he had believed he had found happiness and closure at last with Vicky. They had become so close so quickly that he had felt as though she was a part of him. He had laid bare his soul to her and found absolution in her eyes and her touch, he could not bear it if she were now with someone else. 'You should have thought of that before jumping through the glass, playing hero', his demon prompted. But he hadn't been playing at all. There had been no other choice; his life for how many others? No, there had been no choice at all.  
  
He drifted slowly down, enjoying the sense of weightlessness that his current state allowed him. Watching clouds surrounding him, he wished he could feel their soft touch, the water droplets just waiting to be released. Who would have thought that he would miss getting wet? He didn't need to do it this way of course, he could just decide where he wanted to be and it would be done, but he enjoyed this sense of free-falling knowing there would be no nasty bump at the end. Closing his eyes he let his essence drift. He hadn't really been aiming for anywhere in particular, just letting his subconscious take him where it willed, expecting to find himself deep in the bowels of the SGC facility. It was a shock then when, instead of concrete walls and overworked air conditioning, he opened his eyes to a jungle clearing and the massive structure of a Mayan temple.  
  
"Oh no. No, no, no, I do not want to be here," he whispered to himself. He should never have let his thoughts drift back to Vicky and the pain her loss still caused him. For here he was, back where it had all started, the ruins where they had met the Furling Chak, where they had argued and consoled, where their friendship had been forged. He would have run then, flying back to safety, inuring himself against hurt once more, but then he saw her. Vicky was standing on a rock, reaching up to the wall stretching high above her. The temple had had a lot of work done to it since their fateful visit. The rubble of the altar still lay strewn across the inner court but the walls were now free of their creepers and someone had cleaned most of the dirt from the inscriptions. Going by the dirty marks on her face and clothes, Daniel guessed it was Vicky who had done this. Even now she was reaching up with a small brush to flick the debris from a deeply carved pictogram. With a jolt he realised it was one of his tools, one from the set his parents had bequeathed him. Strange how he had never wondered what had become of it after his ascension. Not that he had any need for his possessions any more, but he still had a silly sentimental attachment to some of his artefacts. It was one of the reasons he had not ventured back to his apartment, not wanting to see the dispersal of his collection, the tearing apart of memories. He was glad Vicky had acquired the tiny brushes and picks, glad that someone at the SGC had sent them to her. He should leave now, take himself away from this place before the pain in his heart became too much, but he found it hard to take his eyes from her.  
  
A deep voice echoed from the compound and then a tall dark-haired man appeared on Vicky's side of the wall. His sudden arrival unbalanced her, sending her scrambling for a hold on the glyph-ridden wall. Daniel watched, heart in his mouth, as she fell - straight into the man's arms. Jealousy raged through him as he watched the man carefully set her down, his hands lingering longer than Daniel liked. He saw Vicky smile, brush herself down, and then move away to pick up the fallen brush. Her mild rebuff brought a savage sense of relief to his overwrought nerves.  
  
This was not right on so many levels, he chided himself. He should leave now, before he took a step too far and showed himself to her - or did something deadly to the man who had held her so tightly.  
  
It was barely a week later that Daniel found himself drifting over the Belize jungle once again. Those seven days had felt like a lifetime. With everything that he could possibly want at his fingertips, with all the wonders that he could explore, he could not rid his thoughts of the woman who had won his heart. He had relived over and over her fall from the stone; berated himself time and again for having stayed to watch her, to open wounds he should have left firmly closed. Jack had always told him he had a masochistic streak somewhere deep inside him and now he found himself agreeing. Why else would he put himself through this? What if he found her in that bastard's arms again, only this time not resisting? What if she had moved on and found someone else to love? Could he really blame her for wanting a life, for wanting to be loved and cherished by someone who was actually alive?! He was always full of questions but these were ones he could live without.  
  
Night had fallen over the clearing and he found Vicky and her companion sitting by the fire deep in discussion over some artefact she held in her palm. The two heads were close together, her long hair hanging loose around her shoulders the way he loved to see it. He could remember that first night they shared together, her hair draped across him, sending shivers of desire through every nerve, his hands tangled in its length as he held her close, kissing her until the world spun. Drawn by the fire, though he could not feel its warmth, Daniel had the insane desire to sit himself between them, to break the obvious harmony that existed. Instead he hovered just outside the fire's gleam and listened to them discuss the crude carvings on the little statue. Any other time he would have been fascinated; but now he just listened to her voice, watched the play of light on her tanned face, basked in the animation of her features as she warmed to her subject.  
  
Time moved on and the statue was put away. Vicky moved to her bedroll the man following behind her. Daniel closed his eyes then opened them again, not wanting to see and yet afraid to not know. The man's hand touched Vicky's shoulder and she turned to him. Daniel gritted his teeth - this was it, this was what he really did not want to see. Vicky put her hand to the man's and spoke softly. "No, Paul."  
  
"It's been nearly a year; don't you think it's time you let him go?"  
  
She removed his hand from her shoulder. "I can't help the way I feel. I know he's gone, but I'm not ready to let someone else into my life yet. I'm sorry, but that's just the way it is."  
  
"It isn't healthy you know. You hold onto his memory like a lifesaver. Well he's not coming back and you have to move on. You know how I feel about you; you know I would be there for you whatever the need. You know that don't you?"  
  
She nodded, smiled perfunctorily at him and turned to her bed. Daniel felt absurdly light-headed. He should not be so damned pleased with this. If he had any thought for Vicky he should be hoping that she would move on; she had so much to give, she deserved better than this.  
  
He sat beside her until she fell into a deep sleep, letting her fill his senses one last time. Stretching out one insubstantial hand he traced the line of her face, imagining the feel of her skin under his fingers, the softness of her lips. He wished that just for a few minutes he could touch her the way he wanted to.  
  
He knew that it was possible to assume physical form, but the others would have his hide for it, and who knew what punishment they would exact from him. If he could be sure he could stay with her he might be tempted, but he knew it would be the wrong decision. He had to let her go. Feeling a little foolish he stretched himself out beside her, watching her sleep, talking to her throughout the night, hoping some of his words would sink into her mind as he said his final goodbyes.  
  
Dawn was nearly upon them and Daniel knew from past experience that she would wake with the first light. Not able to prevent himself he reached out for her one last time, frustrated that he could not touch her as he wanted to. "I still love you, Vicky," he murmured softly. "But you need to move on. Don't waste your life mourning me. I miss you so much," he whispered.  
  
Vicky's eyes flew open, seeming to fasten on Daniel, though he knew she could not see him. His heart beat a little faster as he let himself drown in her eyes one last time.  
  
"I miss you too, Daniel."  
  
The end. 


End file.
